The Strings Attached to Rock and Roll
by emoly
Summary: Part 1: Kiss Me Now That I'm Older. Maturely written. R&R ( I want to know if I should write more )
1. Disclaimer Etc, etc, etc

The Strings Attached to Rock and Roll Part 1: Kiss Me Now That I'm Older.  
  
By emoly.  
  
Authors Note: I don't own any of the characters from School of Rock, nor do I own "If You Want Blood" By AC/DC, "Pink Floyd's The Wall", "Spin" or "Maxim" Magazine, Reggie and The Full Effect, "The Strings That Tie to You" by Jon Brion, "The Karate Kid", the lyrics from "See You Again" by Lenny Kravitz, The Who, Sherlock Holmes or Watson, Sublime or their song "Wrong Way", Sugar Shoes, Jack Daniels, Chaser Pills, Jess Than Jake or their song "Look What Happened", The Darkness or their CD "Permission To Land" or their song "Growing On Me". I do own Molly Markowitz, McCracken Center, Mr. Frau, Mary-Ann Diaz, The Rehearsal Hall and technically Clementine. Though I based her off of Clementine from the movie "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind."  
  
Okay, that was annoying and long but I'm just making sure. I wanted to sound all professional like. ONWARD! 


	2. Meet Freddy and His Quickly Changing Lif...

"See you Monday, Spaz-case." That's all Freddy Jones ever heard. Spaz-case, Twitchy, things like that. His ADHD was one of the most severe cases. The thing that never bothered him, though, was that they were right. He was a Spaz-case. Without his pills, he would never be able to last three minutes inside Horace Green Prepatory.  
  
"Yeah, Later Jennie." He mumbled miserably. Most kids of would have been overly ecstatic for the weekend. Well, kids from public elementary schools at least. But not anyone from Horace Green. Every weekend was loaded with a paper on something, or a project, or at least an hour of homework. Freddy Jones sat in his living room, tapping his fingers on the glass coffee table in a fast paced rhythmic fashion. The same fast paced rhythm was being blasted out of a local club as No Vacancy played. There were no big mosh pits, no kids with dreadlocks in the back of the club head banging and lighting up the joints to the crooning lead singer. Freddy shifted his position from sitting down cross legged Indian style to his knees. He spun around on his bear knees, giving them carpet burn. Dewey Finn was doing circles on his side while in the midst of his insane guitar solo. Freddy sighed, looking over his math homework again. He tapped his pencil against the glass again. After attempting a few numbers, he unzipped his sweatshirt and threw it onto the couch behind him. Dewey ripped off his black and red show cowboy shirt and whipped it around, then tossed it on top of one of the amps. His somewhat hairy, chubby, pasty pale body rocked across the stage in the ever long solo. Finally, Fredrick Jones stood up with every intent of going to the kitchen to get himself something to drink. Caffeine, that's what he needed. As if his ADHD wasn't enough. He looked at the math again and grumbled. He pressed his hand into his forehead and scrunched his blonde hair into his palm, and then dived onto the couch. Dewey, merely a second guitar player in the band, threw his guitar on the ground and dived out into the ground. Snore. Freddy was asleep. Slam. Groan. Dewey was knocked out.  
  
When Freddy came to school Monday morning, he remembered that he had, in fact, taken a stab at the Math assignment. But, as usual, he hadn't finished it.  
"Aw, Man. Frankie, I forgot to do my homework again. Can I copy off of you?"  
"You don't need to worry about that, Miss Dunnam isn't coming to school. She broke her leg." Piped in a rather annoyed sounding voice, who had just brushed passed them and into the classroom. Freddy and Frankie looked around the hallway and then slapped a high five. Frankie jogged as fast as his chubby body could let him to catch up to the informant. Freddy followed.  
"Wait, Summer, how are you sure?" Frankie asked. Slamming her books down onto her desk, Summer Hathaway huffed and rolled her eyes at the class delinquents.  
"Because I heard Miss Mullins calling for substitute teachers when I went to the office this morning to drop off some stuff." She said in her know-it-all tone that she had, and then swiftly made her way into her seat, combing her thin, black, shiny hair. Frankie and Freddy stared at each other with large grins.  
"Sweet!" They said together. The few minutes of the morning were glorious. No teacher. It was a beautiful thing. They could swear and eat in class. They could draw on the chalkboard. That was, until, Miss Mullins arrived with Miss Dunnam's replacement. He was fat, pale, and looked like he had just been through hell in a washing machine. He went to the board to write his name. Mr. S..h...n...e...e...e.  
"Why don't you all just call me Mr. S."  
  
Mr. S was not, in fact, Mr. S. It was Dewey Finn. Who was down on his luck on putting together a new band, since he had been kicked out of his last one for being a glory hog. In desperate need of paying off the rent, Dewey decided there was no harm in posing as his long time friend, room mate and substitute teacher, Ned Schneebly. It started out simply as just a quest to make enough money to pay off the rent. But it quickly turned into winning the prestigious Battle of The Bands. It was so easy. Everyone in the class was incredibly talented. There was guitarist, Zack. There was a keyboardist, Lawrence. A bassist, Katie. Backup singers, Marta and Alicia. And of course, what band would be complete without a drummer? That's where Freddy came in. He had a natural sense of rhythm, and banging on the drums would be a better outlet that burning things. Which was one of Freddy's favorite past times. At first it started out as just learning the instrument, and then learning the music that was Rock and Roll. The music that Dewey loved so much. And then it got down to the nitty-gritty. The real rehearsals. They had just learned "You're not hardcore" for the first time, as performed and visualized by Dewey. And that day, there was creative fusion in the air, all day.  
  
That afternoon when the Horace Green Prepatory school bus dropped Freddy off, along with two fifth grades, Jennie James and Francesca Epstein, it was the usual for the time being. There was some name calling, but this time it was different.  
"Take your Ritalin this morning, Spaz-case?" Francesca teased.  
"Not like that could help him much." Jennie added. Freddy growled.  
"Oh, I'm so scared!" Francesca rolled her eyes at his growling. Freddy rolled his sleeves, and then realized that it looked a lot better that way then if he was to wear it normally.  
"Oh fuck you, Epstein. Step off before I kill you." He snapped. Both of the girls stared at each other. Before they could stutter anything else, Freddy had pulled his headphones from his neck onto his ears and ran off down his neighborhood street, singing along to AC/DC's "If You Want Blood." Francesca and Jennie stared at each other some more, and then watched Freddy running down the street.  
"Yeah, he defiantly didn't take his Ritalin." Francesca said. 


	3. Clark's Pharmacy

Freddy slowed down as he approached his red brick house, pulling the headphones off his ears and turning the music down low. He took a few deep breaths and slicked back his hair a little more. His mom liked to fuss over him when he got home, so he figured if he was clean and un-fussable when he got home, she wouldn't do anything. He walked inside, and was greeted by his Yellow Labrador. Just as he was about to kick off his shoes, his mother came down the stairs.  
"Don't take those off, Freddy, we've gotta go to the pharmacy to pick up your pills. You took the last one this morning." His mother instructed. Freddy threw in his hands up in the air and sighed.  
"Whatever!"  
  
The car ride to the pharmacy was one of the loudest ones that both mother and son had ever gone through. Freddy insisted on listening to his music, drumming along to every song on his CD that Mr. S had so willingly lent to him. By the time they drove into the parking lot for Clark's Pharmacy, Mrs. Jones had a headache. She thanked her lucky stars that she was going someplace that sold drugs. As in, pain relievers. Which meant she could cure the headache as fast as she got it. Clark's Pharmacy was one of the mom-and-pop stores around, but the Jones's had relied on it since Freddy's father was a child. Freddy and his mother stood in line at the window to pick up Freddy's Ritalin after Mrs. Jones had to take Freddy's CD player away from him. If she heard AC/DC anymore, she thought her head might explode. Freddy began to get bored. He tapped his fingers, started drumming on a shelf next to him that carried herbal supplements until he knocked down a few bottles and his mother scolded him. Again. Then, Freddy zoned in on a girl and her mother in front of him in line.  
"Mom, what're my pills for again?" The girl asked.  
"It's called insomnia." Her mom replied, patting her daughters head.  
"Ah, you mean, me not sleeping."  
"Yes. That's right."  
"Mom, I don't have insomnia. I stay up late and I sleep in class." The girl grinned and laughed. Freddy laughed too. He didn't know this girl. She didn't go to Horace Green. In fact, he had never seen her in his life. A quick study of her backpack revealed to Freddy that she was a public school kid. And the school's mascot was a cougar. He squinted closer to read the text below the giant maroon and gold animal, but the girl started shifting around, and then went over to a shelf of cough drops, and began reading the back of the package. She leaned her body so her backpack was facing away from Freddy, and now he got a good look at her face. She was a bit shorter than Freddy, with long chocolate brown hair and a few handfuls of freckles on either side of her face. There was nothing extraordinary about her. She was wearing jeans that were torn up at the bottom and an oversized black t-shirt with a fading imprint of The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Freddy laughed again, which caused the girl to look up. They stared at each other for a millisecond and then Freddy quickly looked away as if nothing had happened. Freddy didn't study the girl at all anymore as he stood in line with his mother. That is, until Mrs. Jones had reached the pharmacists window. Freddy was drumming on the counter, but stopped as he heard a voice echo throughout Clark's Pharmacy.  
"Dolly! Come on!" Freddy scrunched up his nose. Dolly? Who in their right mind would name their kid Dolly? And at that moment, the girl with the insomnia from before appeared from behind a stack of newspapers, and ran down the waiting line towards the door.  
  
The next few couple days flew by quickly, creating musical fusion every day. He would stay after class and watch old tapes that Mr. S provided of drummers like Ringo Starr playing a full set like there was no tomorrow. Since Mr. S had provided Freddy with a full drum set and plenty of time to practice, he quickly became good. It was a relief for his mother as well because there were many days where Freddy would come home and collapse on his bed, listening to the Hawaii 5 0 drum solo in his CD player again and again. There were no more fires to have to put out in the back yard right before dinner, anymore. Then the days started narrowing down until the big gig. Their Woodstock. The Battle of the Bands. Sure, the entire 5th grade class had to fake a terminal illness, but it got them booked. There was only a week and a half left until The Battle of The Bands, and the band was down to crunch time. That morning, as Freddy crawled out of bed and threw hair gel into his hair, he stared down at a piece of paper that was sitting on his desk. It had a list of albums he made sure he would have to buy off of Mr. S, or download off the internet. Scrunching his nose up in his normal, confused Freddy way, he picked up the paper and looked at it. There in the corner of the paper was a doodle of a cougar's head he didn't remember drawing. Shrugging, he quickly got dressed in his uniform for school and headed toward the bus, pulling a Ritalin pill out of his pocket and chasing it with a bottle of Mountain Dew. He made sure he put the Ritalin in his pocket after his escapade yesterday. In the rush to get to school, Freddy had forgotten to take his medicine and had a horrible rehearsal, slamming down on the drum set so hard he had not only broken two sets of drum sticks, but also nearly exposing the band to Miss Mullins. That day, Freddy sat tapping his drumsticks against his flame incrusted doodle desk, with his "body guard" Frankie and Zack. Pink Floyd's infamous trippy movie "The Wall" was playing at the front of the class, but nobody was paying attention. Freddy shifted in his chair and threw his drumstick forward and it hit the chalkboard. Mr. S jumped out of his chair, where he had almost been napping. The class laughed.  
"Dammit, Freddy, can't you keep still?!" Mr. S barked, pressing his hands against his forehead.  
"Nope." Freddy said in his typical smart-ass way. Mr. S got up and began walking toward the back of the room to pull out the instruments again. It was time to rock. The kids all got up and began to take their battle positions, chattering amongst themselves. Summer sat in her desk, though, scratching her head with a confused look on her face. The movie had made her completely lost. Freddy pulled a new drumstick from inside his desk and looked at his two friends.  
"Hey, do either of you guys know a school around here that's mascot is a cougar?" Zack and Frankie looked hard, and then shook their heads.  
"Oh, I do." Mr. S said as he opened the closet doors that held the massive silver drum kit. "I went to a school that had a cougar. K-12 school. It was horrible. The Covington Lion School." Mr. S almost spit in disgust. Zack looked at Freddy.  
"Why?"  
"Nothin' really. Just wondering. Saw some chick with it pinned to her backpack and I had never seen it before."  
"Freddy, you do go to a private school after all." Marco said as he passed by, slinging some cords over his shoulder.  
"Yeah, you're right, Marco." He said, throwing a staple at Marco's bright red head. Not another word was spoken about the school for another eight days. 


	4. A Meeting in the Mosy Likley of Places

Two days before the Battle of the Bands, Freddy found him back inside Clark's Pharmacy to refill his prescription. He didn't tell his mother, but he had been taking double the recommended amount for his A.D.H.D because he wanted to concentrate even harder on his drumming. And surprisingly, it worked. He had never been so focused in his life. And when his mother asked why his pills ran out so fast, he lied and said that Ricardo, his dog, had gotten hold of them, slobbered and then urinated on them. A little strange, but the lie worked.  
  
Fredrick found himself having deja vou as he stood in the obscenely long line. But this time, he was smart enough to leave his mom alone in the line and wandered off to see what there was to do. He found himself in an isle full of magazines. He had just picked up a copy of "Spin" and the spotted a copy of "Maxim" behind it. Freddy looked around, grabbed the second magazine and slipped it into the middle of an article about The Pixies and pretended to be reading it. But before his eyes could get past the small picture of Kate Winslet posed as Rose in "Titanic" before there was a small sound at the end of the isle. The tinkling of key chains. Freddy threw the magazine back into the rack and looked up. It was the insomnia girl. Dolly.  
"Hi." Freddy says, shoving his hands into his green and blue plaid pants. There was a pause, and the girl looked up and shakes her hair out of her face. It's the same freckled, small girl that he remembered, only this time she was wearing a shirt that was almost too small for her. It seemed as if she couldn't quite dress correctly.  
"Hi." She replies softly, waving her hand. There was another moment of awkward silence. Freddy felt something inside his pocket and fished it out with his fingers. It was a small piece of white paper. She tipped her head and narrowed her eyes at the paper before putting her face back to normal as she saw that Freddy was staring at her.  
"Here. I want you to come to this. At least, try to. It's downtown, but my band will be playing there." He handed the paper forward to the small girl.  
"A band? A concert, you mean?" She asked, surveying the small flyer and then up to Freddy. Freddy smiled and nodded, running his hands through his hair to spike them up more.  
"Yeah." He nodded.  
"I'd like that. I'd like to hear your band. I'll try." The girl replied and nodded.  
"Really? Good, I mean, cool, awesome, sweet!" He gave her a thumbs up and another smile. She smiled in return. Her teeth were straight, but had braces on them anyway. Freddy opened his mouth to speak again, but then his name echoed over the rows of dog treats and maxi pads.  
"Freddy, come on. We're all done." Mrs. Jones's head appeared at the end of the row, and her hand waving at him to get going. Freddy looked at the girl but decided not to say anything. He just walked past her with a parting nod and a smile and walked away, giving a back glance at the "Spin" magazine and what lied beneath it. 


	5. Strings of The Past, Present and Future

Years passed before anything remotely interesting would happen again. Apart from Dewey Finn being arrested a month after Battle of the Bands for Disturbance of the peace. The band continued under the guidance of Ned, which turned out fine. Ned became less of a stiff and started playing in a band, as well as continuing his career as a substitute teacher. School of Rock never really got too far. The entire band just decided to stay local and underground until Dewey got out of jail. They didn't know that it would take 6 years. Freddy, who was now 16, was able to drive himself to drum lessons. Ned, who had never played the drums in his life, recommended he take lessons to keep him advancing. Today, the traffic had been obnoxiously slow and he was over 20 minutes late for his lessons. He honked loudly for a long period of time and finally, there was a break in traffic and Freddy pulled into the parking lot. He hurried into the building as fast as he could, but was stopped at the front desk by a woman who looked out of place to work at a rehearsal hall as well as a piano store, with bright purple hair and green eye shadow.  
"Freddy, Mr. Frau, your instructor, has already started rehearsing with another client. You'll have to wait." Little did he know that Stan Frau, his 34 year old drum teacher, was really playing a tape of a drum rehearsal and making out with his 19 year old red head girlfriend. He didn't mean to seduce her during one of the rehearsals, but things just sort of happen that way. Freddy sighed and gave a two finger wave of thanks to Clementine, who was the girl with the purple hair. He had waited almost 15 minutes sitting down in an uncomfortable plastic chair outside the drum hall when his A.D.H.D finally got the best of him. He couldn't just sit and twitch his fingers anymore. Instead, he got up and traveled around the rest of the large building. There was a separate hall for each instrument they offered lessons for. The company was well known for it's exceptional instructors, as well as pianos. He passed the trumpet hallway, the harp, the guitar, the flute. Finally he reached the vocal lesson hallway. It was the hallway nearest to the door, but he had never really paid attention to it before. Come to think of it, Freddy had never noticed half of the hallways before only because the drumming hallway was all the way in the back next to the piano showroom. As he wandered down the hallway, he studied the white board sign-in sheet that hung next to each door. They were no different from the ones that hung in his familiar drum hallway, except the writing on these sign in boards were much neater. Female writing. There was hardly any girls who played drums, at least that Freddy knew. There was one girl who came in right after him with obnoxiously bright natural red hair and more freckles than anyone he ever knew. But he paid no mind. He squinted and ran his hand through his spiked blonde hair, today with black tips. He had discovered non permanent hair dye that was nice for decorating his hair. The color always stood out well. Freddy studied the names on door number 4. Brooke Baker was the first name on the list. Normal enough. Marie James. Marcy Stone. Molly Markowitz. Markowitz. That wasn't a name Freddy had ever heard. It sounded Jewish. But most anything that ended in w-i-t-z was usually Jewish in his mind. His fingers ran over the white board, smudging the dry erase marker accidentally so now it read rooke Baker arie James. arcy Stone and olly Marokwitz. Hey, at least the Markowitz part was still there. He was amused by that. As Freddy picked up the dry erase marker again to fix the names, he dropped it suddenly as the door slammed from behind him. Freddy's fingers twitched as he felt the adrenaline rush through his body from being caught of guard. He certainly wasn't frightened. Fredrick Joseph Jones did not frighten at all! He peeked around the corner of the hall to see who was leaving. He only managed to catch the back of the person. A girl. Thin and tall, pale with short black hair. He took a mental note, just because his Ritalin was on overtime and he couldn't do anything but take notes of how the cracks in the black and white tile spelled out "SFSSP." The girl had jeans, probably from the gap and a red skirt with black lace trim. And a black hooded sweatshirt. Freddy narrowed his eyes. There was something written at the bottom in white lettering. He couldn't quite see it. So he pushed past the first set of the glass doors to the second and pressed his face up against the glass. He squinted harder. It read "ARE YOU STARING AT MY ASS?" and then something smaller in the corner. Freddy laughed, and then turned around on his heel when he heard Clementine shouting his name.  
"JONES! HEY FREDDY! ARE YOU DEAF?!" Freddy pushed through the doors and back into the main room.  
"Sorry. But glass is pretty fucking hard to hear through, Clem." He said with a smirk, pulling on his black pants.  
"Yeah, I'm sure. What're you doing out there anyway?" Clementine asked, pulling her purple hair back into a pony tail and tapping some buttons on the computer keyboard behind the desk as she took inventory of a bunch of "Easy Harp Songs for Easy Harp Players" books that had just been shipped in. Not exactly a desirable name for a music book, Clementine thought.  
"Nothing." Freddy lied.  
"Checking out Molly, huh?" Clementine asked, lifting up a pierced eyebrow. Freddy loved that piercing and the little purple die that was attached to it. That's what got his attention to Clementine in the first place. She didn't always have brightly colored hair. It used to be a dull blonde. But she always had that eyebrow piercing. Maybe he just had a natural draw to people who were a bit like him. Freddy drew his eyes away from Clementine's flesh mutilations. Clem pushed another few buttons.  
"She takes vocal lessons here. Only shows up for about half of them, though." Clementine continued.  
"Yeah? Sounds like me and school." Freddy said quietly, folding his arms onto the counter. The Purple haired worker began shifting through a stack of sheet music and books. She finally pulled out a packet and laid it on the counter, pushing it toward Freddy with her silver and blue nails.  
"This is the piece she's working on." Clementine said.  
"Why would I care about that?" Freddy huffed.  
"Because I know you like to know as much as you can about a girl that you like without actually having to talk to them about it." Clementine retorted.  
"That's bullshit!" The drummer barked.  
"You're bullshit, Freddy." Clementine stuck out her tongue. Freddy hushed himself and took the sheet music. The title read "Strings That Tie to You." He spent the next few minutes quietly leafing through the song. He could hear the notes in his head, and decided it wasn't a normal piece for someone to sing, but it would probably sound good with a back up band. He was disturbed by Clementine, who had just huffed and made a handful of noise, throwing the books she had been counting onto the floor, grabbing her orange parka and kicking the rolling chair that sat behind the desk into a filing cabinet.  
"That's it! I quit!" Clementine screamed and huffed out the door. Freddy blinked, setting the sheet music down onto the counter and looking around. Well he certainly wasn't going to pick up the books. Then he remembered why he had broken up with Clementine in the first place. She was too impulsive, even for Freddy. They had made a great match for a while, but when Clementine started talking about running away to China town or getting married in Vegas, Freddy broke it off as fast as he could. Sometimes he wondered if he regretted it, having not found a serious girlfriend since Clementine. There was a few girls he had taken out on dates, or invited to parties after School of Rock had done a show. But not a steady girlfriend. The red head girl appeared from the drumming hallway and walked passed Freddy with a grin, wiping the side of her mouth with a look like she had an amazing secret.  
"Go ahead, Freddy. He's all yours. He's a little tired today, it's too bad you didn't get here earlier." The red head said. Freddy just flipped her the bird.  
"Go to hell." Freddy muttered, wandering into the hallway. He stopped at the sign in board and quickly scribbled "Fredrick Jones Esquire III" onto the white board, and read the name above his. It was Mary-Ann Diaz.  
"Well look at that, you do learn something new every day, even if you don't go to school." Freddy said, feeling a lopsided smile tug at the corners of his lips. He didn't notice the little heart that Mary-Ann had doodled next to his name, nor the fact that there was a boom-box in Mr. Frau's rehearsal room. He could notice the secret words that the cracks spelled out secret words, but not that his instructor was having an affair with a college freshman. 


	6. Fated Due to Bottles of Pills

For the next 3 weeks, almost a month, Freddy Jones never saw Molly Markowitz. He even made an effort to get there early and late to catch a glimpse of the name that had provoked so much thought during the endless amount of time had to wait for Mr. Frau, but he never saw her. He saw her name on the whiteboard, written in her curvy and sloppy lettering he had come to know, but never see her face. Clementine came in and out of working there, but the second week she eventually quit altogether and ended up working in a Middle Eastern restaurant that Freddy began to eat at quite frequently late at night. Did Freddy still love Clementine? No. He doubted it very much. But he enjoyed her company. It was entertaining. She never seemed to run out of things to say.  
  
Freddy finally stopped double timing his Ritalin after a catastrophic concert. He was so tired he fell asleep on stage. Besides, Freddy was tired of inspecting the world like Mr. Miagi from "The Karate Kid" did. As normal, the 16 year old found himself joining the line at Clark's Pharmacy. There always seemed to be a line, like it was an unwritten rule of physics or something. You would think after almost 16 years of having the same medication, they would just hand it to him and he would be on his way but that was never the case. He heard the familiar bell that jingled when the new automatic doors opened, and the hushed murmur of old and young people alike. All waiting for some sort of medication, or paying for a pack of condoms or what have you. The old waiting chairs were pushed up against the wall, and one was holding an elderly woman clutching her alligator skin purse. Another chair had a backpack on it. With a few key chains attached to it. Mostly beaded key chains that spelled out things like "Damn the Man." That was Freddy's favorite one he saw. Tipping his head downward he noticed that the backpack was unzipped. He crouched down to see what there was inside it, without being suspicious and actually going through it. From what he could see, there was a binder, a packet of paper and a brown paper bag. And as usual, what snapped him out of his brown nosing spree was someone's name being called in the air.  
"Molly Markowitz, you're prescription's ready." The words bit through the hair like the alligator that was now an elderly woman's purse. A thin girl appeared from one of the rows and walked over to the window. Weston Clark, the owner of Clark's Pharmacy, handed the girl the white paper bag. She took it with her free hand, and balanced it on top of an issue of "Spin" magazine.  
"Thank god! I can sleep again!" She said in a grateful tone, but still somewhat quiet. Clark's Pharmacy always had a hushed atmosphere about it. Sort of like Starbucks. Freddy stared even harder. It was the same thin frame that he had seen walking out of The Rehearsal Hall. The girl took the backpack from the waiting chair and stuffed both the magazine and her white paper bag into her backpack, zipped it up and threw it onto her back. Freddy watched her leave. There was a cougar patch sewn onto the front pocket. It took him a minute, but he put two and two together. He broke out of line, shoved his prescription paper in his pocket and started after the girl. He had known Molly Markowitz for close to 6 years. He had invited her to Battle of the Bands when he was in fifth grade. Her name wasn't Dolly, like he had thought so many years ago, it was Molly. This was the singing, public school attending insomniac that had nearly caught Freddy looking at scantily clad ladies 6 years ago.  
"Wait, Wait, You're Molly Markowitz?!" Freddy asked loudly as he rushed out of the store and jogged down the block to catch up with her. She stopped and turned around.  
"Yeah. I am." She replied, sticking her hands into the pockets of her jeans. They were just slightly oversized and baggy, especially around her knees, where there was a black and white checkered patch sewn on. A lot of pants were like that with Molly. She was a pretty tiny girl.  
"Hi!" Freddy said, shoving his hands into the back pockets of his yellow and black plaid pants.  
"I uh, don't mean to be rude or anything...but who the hell are you?" Molly asked with a somewhat awkward laugh.  
"Oh. Oh!" He said, extending his hand to Molly. Why was he such a spaz-case sometimes? "Fredrick Jones, err, Freddy. Freddy. I'm Freddy Jones. We've met before. A few times, actually."  
Molly scrunched her black eyebrows trying to remember. There was little to no sign of recognition for a while.  
"Drummer? A.D.H.D?" Freddy said, trying to ring a bell. Molly threw her purple colored fingernails up to her mouth.  
"Oh! Yeah! You invited me to The Battle of the Bands back in like, 5th grade." She said with a somewhat embarrassed smile, curling her hair behind her ear. Freddy nodded brightly.  
"It turns out we go to a lot of the same places. Clark's and The Rehearsal Hall. You've got rehearsal's the same time that I do." Freddy said. Molly knew about Freddy and the fact that he came to The Rehearsal Hall every Thursday and Friday at 3:15 PM with Stan Frau. She and Clementine had constant conversations about him, especially while Clementine and Freddy were dating. She never told Clem, but Molly always envied her and her ability to land a wonderful boyfriend.  
"Really? Go figure! Small fuckin' world, huh?" Molly said, looping her thumbs into the belt loops of her pants. She tossed back her head again to pull her hair from her view. Her hair was short, and jet black and styled like a 40's flapper. Freddy studied her for a minute. It was the same girl that he had known so many years ago. The same freckles and shy smile, no matter how outgoing her language was.  
"So did you end up going to the Battle of the Bands, Molly?" Freddy asked as he finished taking in her aged face. He didn't want to seem too much like a stalker.  
"Yeah. I did," Molly said quietly, quite embarrassed. Her smile was half hidden as she bit her bottom lip. Out of habit, she reached up and pulled on the zipper to her black sweatshirt. The same one that she wore to vocal lessons all the time. Her Reggie and The Full Effect sweatshirt. "I never got a chance to thank you."  
Freddy looked confused. "For what?"  
"I had to sneak out to go see you at The Battle of the Bands. I got in so much trouble. But you introduced me to Punk Rock. As retarded as it sounds, you kind of made me who I am today. If it wasn't for you and School of Rock, I'd probably be listening to Enya right now and doing quantum psychics."  
"Wow. Really? How come you didn't come back and say Hi? I would have known you."  
"Oh, well, you see, I did. But you were so happy celebrating your encore I didn't want to ruin it. The last thing you needed was some weird public school chick cramping your style." Molly said. Oh god, I just used the words cramp-your-style. Molly thought.  
Freddy ran a hand through his spikes. It hit him almost like a ton of bricks. "Wow, really? That's...amazing. I don't think I've ever heard a story like that. Fucking rad, man."  
"Yeah. So, thanks." Molly smiled and ran her heads through her hair.  
"Hey, Molly, do you wanna go get some coffee or something?" Freddy asked, raising his eyebrows on high. Molly looked excited for a minute, but then dug her hands into her pockets and pulled out a chord with a tag around the neck.  
"I really wish I could, Freddy Jones, but I've gotta go to work," Molly looked equally as disappointed as Freddy. "But stop by today or something. I work the afternoon to night shifts. Until about 6ish usually. I'll catch you at Flipside, alright?" She grinned so friendly and welcome that her teeth sparkled. Freddy nodded and watched Molly wander down the block and to a white car where she stopped, looked back and gave a wave to Freddy. 


	7. A band AND a Detective Agency

"Zack, play that guitar bridge again." Freddy ordered, as he sat as his drum kit, chewing on a pen cap. School of Rock, after graduating Elementary School went on to separate schools. Some of them had gone to public schools, like Marta, Frankie, Freddy and Zack. Some stayed in Private Schools like Summer, Billy and Lawrence. Now they met up in Ned's apartment every 3 days for a rehearsal or a jam session. Ned's apartment was a lot bigger now with Patty moved out. He was dealing with the break up pretty bad when no one is around, but seemed to get along just fine when the kids were there. Dewey had entrusted him as the Demi-God of Rock.  
"Alright." Zack shrugged and plucked at the metal strings again. A slower vibe rang through the apartment building, and possibly the complex.  
  
All of my life, where have you been. I wonder if I'll ever see you again. And if that day comes, I know we could win. I wonder if I'll ever see you again. I've been searching for you, I heard a cry within my soul. I never had a yearning quite like this before. Now that you're walking right through my door.  
  
It wasn't The Who material, but it was better than some of the things that the band had been writing lately. Zack peered over Freddy's drum kit to see what his drumming friend was writing.  
"I didn't know you were a lyric writing man."  
"I'm not." Freddy admitted.  
"Have you gone to see Molly Markowitz, yet, Fred?" Lawrence asked from across the room.  
"I told you guys, I can't find her!" Freddy sighed, throwing a drumstick toward Lawrence.  
"It's been almost a week!" Lawrence exclaimed, looking somewhat annoyed with his stubborn headed band mate. Lawrence had changed a bit, too. He was still polite, but a bit more outspoken and confident. He still didn't take flattery well, either.  
"Don't think I don't fucking know, alright?" Freddy spat, closing his notebook and spitting the pen at one of the crash symbols. A few people exchanged looks and shrugged.  
"Okay, so what exactly did Molly say?" Summer asked, striking a Sherlock Holmes pose.  
"She said that she works afternoon to night shifts and that she'd catch me on the Flipside." Freddy repeated like the back of his hand. He had been through the story several times, almost word for word. There was a silence that settled over the band.  
"Flipside? Since when is the word Flipside back?" Marta asked, scratching her wild mane of wavy, bright blonde hair. Marta had grown up more than any of them. She used to be so small, but over the course of 6 years she had blossomed into a young woman complete with glossy lips and vocal chords fit for a pop princess. There was a murmur of agreement in the room.  
"Flipside Records." Katie piped up. Marta pulled on one of Katie's blue streaks amongst her chocolate brown hair.  
"What are you talking about, Katie?" Marta asked. Katie dug through the pocket of her ridiculously oversized pants with bright green lining. She fished a receipt out of her pocket and handed it to Freddy.  
"Flipside Records. It's a store about half an hour away from here. So Molly probably lives pretty far away from here. That's why she never went to our school." Katie rationalized. Summer looked impressed at the bass player with the black Rancid tank top on.  
"A brilliant deduction, Watson!" Zack exclaimed in his Rolling-Stone- Keith-Richard's voice. Katie grinned in a stupidly proud fashion.  
"That makes a lot of sense. She didn't say 'I'll catch you on the Flipside.' She probably said something like 'I'll catch you at Flipside.'" Summer said, holding out her hands like she had just solved the worlds easiest problem for the world's stupidest people.  
"You all do realize that we've just wasted 20 minuets of precious rehearsal time helping Mr. Punch Drunk Love here track down some mysterious girl with a Jewish last name who sings and has insomnia?" Tamika looked around, annoyed and amused at the same time with her ghetto hand-on-the-hip 'Oh you've got to be kidding me' look. It was amazing how much Freddy knew out of a girl who he had only talked to twice in his life. The band looked around, nodded and then all broke into laughter.  
"Hey! I don't love the chick, I'm just seeing how small this world really is." Freddy growled.  
"Whatever, Spazzy McGee, just get out of here and go track her down!" Tamika ordered, pointing a curvy, manicured, long red fingernail at the door.  
You don't have to tell me twice. Freddy thought. 


	8. Wrong Way and a Left Turn

The night had begun to wane as Molly and Freddy left the parking lot of the 7-11 a few weeks later. They had spent almost 2 hours there since Molly got off of work at 8 o'clock. She had to work overtime that night. It was almost time to go back to school and with every new school year came a new set of records for the people who most visited Flipside. While sipping on their Slurpee's, Freddy and Molly sung at the top of their lungs to Molly's Sublime CD that she had just bought for her 5 finger discount at her job. Molly's favorite band was Sublime. She loved Ska music more than most any other genre of music. Rock came in a close second. Freddy didn't normally listen to stuff like Sublime, but he was a child of the 90's, so it was almost impossible not to know Sublime. All the sudden he had taken a liking to their smooth beats and horns in the background. Maybe we should consider a brass section for School of Rock. Freddy thought to himself as he turned the car in the direction of Molly's house as she directed him.  
"Oh, turn left up here!" She shouted over the music with a mouth full of cold blue slush. Molly caught a glimpse of herself in the side view mirror. Her lips were bright blue, along with her tongue.  
"One left turn!" Freddy called and turned the car abruptly onto the left side street.  
"Freddy! You're gonna get us killed, you asshole!" She yelled. Freddy just wiggled his eyebrows and grinned devilishly. Molly laughed and cranked up the volume as loud as it could, and rolled down both the windows.  
"I love this song!" She said and took the last few sips of her slurpee. Freddy sang along again the best he could.  
  
Annie's 12 years old in two more she'll be a whore. Nobody ever told her it's the wrong way. Don't be afraid with the quickness you get laid. For the family get paid, it's the wrong way. I gave her all that I had to give. I'm gonna make it hard to live. Salty tears running down her chin, it ruins up her makeup I never wanted A cigarette pressed between her lips But I'm staring at her tits, it's the wrong way. Strong as I can, but I am only a man. So I take her to the can it's the wrong way!  
  
"Oh, shit, shit, right here!" Molly said, pointing to a white house with green shutters and an equally green mailbox reading "MARKOWITZ" except the Z was beginning to chip off. Freddy wheeled his gray old BMW into the driveway and turned down the music.  
"Nice place." Freddy said with an approving nod.  
"It's a shit hole inside." Molly said with a shrug. "Wanna come in and have a drink?" Freddy looked at her with a quirked eyebrow. Molly bit her bottom lip as she unbuckled her seatbelt, embarrassed.  
"Shit, you don't drink, do you?" Molly came to her conclusion quietly, and quite embarrassed that she had just offered Freddy alcohol when he didn't drink. Freddy shook his head.  
"No, it's not that. I drink, it's just, your parents just let you drink?" Molly looked relived and laughed, running her hands through her hair and messing it up quite badly. Freddy's orange tinted lips pulled into a smile at the sight of her hair.  
"My parents are out of town for the week. Some big conference in Wyoming or some obscure state like that. It's cool, you can come inside." Molly said, opening the door and getting out. The wind bit at her bare arms and combed through her hair like a white hot comb. She pulled her Reggie and the Full Effect sweatshirt tighter across her body, and ran up toward the house, pulling her keys out of her back pocket and finding the one of the car. Freddy jogged up to the front door as well. Shivering as he held his arms tighter. Freddy, being the genius that he was, thought he was just too cool to wear a jacket and settled for a flimsy black long sleeved t- shirt with a skateboarding label written sideways on the sleeve. They had been rolled up in his signature style the entire car ride, trying to show off his developing arm muscles. But now the wind howled and attacked so bad he pulled them both down and wrapped them around his fingers. Finally after minutes of fidgeting and fighting with the freezing cold metal key, Freddy was welcomed into the Markowitz household. It was as warm and inviting as Molly's smile was. Especially on an excruciating cold nights like this one. Molly kicked off her shoes and disappeared down the hallway and into the kitchen which was visible from the door. Freddy bent down and began un- tying the laces to his big, scuffed up black boots. He studied Molly's shoes as he sat on the floor playing cat's cradle with the black laces. Her shoes were small, incredibly small compared to Freddy's. They were rounded and almost cartoonish looking. Black with silver stripes and a silver bottom. A quick look at the heel discovered that they were a brand called Sugar Shoes. Girls. Freddy thought. I'll never understand.  
"Two hot glasses of hot chocolate rum." Molly called, appearing in the end of the hallway where the kitchen table was. Freddy wiggled his toes inside his socks to make sure he could feel all of them. His cheeks were pink, as well as the tips of his ears and they had only been outside for a minute at the most. Pushing a button on his watch, it lit up blue and it was revealed to him that it was an astonishing 19 degrees. It usually never got this cold during the fall where he lived. It hardly got that cold during the winter, come to think. Freddy took one of the glasses that Molly was holding. He could see the steam rising up in the beer mug.  
"It's a weird combination, I know, but I promise it's good." Molly said, pulling a bottle of Jack Daniels down from cupboard atop the refrigerator.  
"Have you met my friend Jack? He's a swell fellow." She wrinkled her nose with a blue tongued smile. Freddy laughed and nearly choked on his own spit. Molly picked up her beer mug and looked at Freddy.  
"Here's to a small world." Freddy said, extending his glass.  
"A small and whole new world." Molly added, and then did the same. Clink. 


	9. Drunk Yesterday

Freddy woke up the next morning with white cotton sheets pressed tight against his warm body. He also had an enormous headache. When he came to full consciousness, squinting through the rays of light that beamed in through the windows, he came to discover he was in his own room.  
"Oh god..." He grumbled, trying to placed his hand onto his face. His hands were immobilized inside his sheets. During the night the drummer had wound himself so tight within his 50% cotton 50% polyester sheets that he resembled a moth in a cocoon. Or a taco with a 16 year old white boy as it's main topping. After a few minutes of untangling himself, he sat at the edge of his bed with his feet pressed against the chest that sat at the edge of his bed. Rubbing his eyes mercilessly with the edge of his palms, all he could do was concentrate was the pounding and the ringing in his head. Stumbling off his bed in his blue plaid boxers, he fell down on his stomach onto the futon across his room. His mouth tasted of mint and whiskey.  
"Someone please fucking pick up the fucking phone." He groaned, referring to the ringing in his head. Hangovers were something that hardly ever happened to Freddy Jones, because he was smart enough to keep his stash of Chaser pills at the bottom of his chest, next to his box of condoms that were beginning to collect dust. For a moment, as he flipped over onto his back, he thought of his first encounter with a hung-over man.  
  
"I've got a hangover, does anyone know what that means?" "Doesn't that mean you're drunk?" "No, that means I was drunk yesterday."  
  
Yesterday. What did he do yesterday? Freddy scrunched his face in thought, running his hands down them so slowly that his cheeks slumped down with them. He visited Molly at work. Molly! That was it! He had gone over to Molly's house after getting Slurpee's. He couldn't remember much besides Molly's small shoes, and the oversized Christmas wreath that hung in the middle of the front of her house where there was nothing but white wood. He probably could have stirred up more events from the previous night, but it hurt his head too bad. Freddy hoisted himself up and stumbled out of his room and into the bathroom. Switching on the light, he groaned and turned the lights back off. They hurt his eyes too much. Instead, he plugged a nightlight into the socket in the mirror. It provided enough light for him to see his way around. Yawning, he looked in the mirror. His face was scratchy, so he thought he might be growing in stubble again. One of the highlights of growing up was growing facial hair. As he began examining his face he noticed that there was a big black, long black spot on his face. Freddy squinted and looked closer. There was writing on his face! Flipping on the light again, Freddy groaned again and looked closer at his cheek. There were numbers on his face! Numbers! What the hell?! Freddy thought. He turned on the faucet to wash his hands off, and when he stuck them under the water he saw the back of his hands for the first time that morning. It, too had writing on it. But it was smudged and un-readable. Pushing his face tight up against the glass, Freddy was able to read the letters M, O, A and I. Freddy scratched his fluffy, messed up blonde hair in thought.  
"M...O...A...I..." He said aloud in thought. "Mmm...Mooaieee...Moiiiee. Wait, hold on, M.O.A.I isn't a word!" Genius, I'm such a genius. Logically, the only thing it could me was the word Markowitz, unless he had encountered other females on his drinking fest. But it was too cold outside to go anywhere, so he couldn't have gone to a show. But the letters weren't in the correct order. A goes before O in Markowitz. Freddy pulled himself up onto the counter, tracing his fingers across the white patterns in the forest green marble as he thought.  
"OH! It's Molly and Markowitz!" Freddy said, tossing his hands up. He laughed, rubbed his temples and began his daily routine of getting ready. Only it was 2 in the afternoon, not exactly day still. He pulled a bottle of aspirin from the mirror cabinet, his hair gel and Clearasil. He squirted some onto his hands and started scrubbing his forehead. His eyes widened and Freddy quickly stuck his forehead and hands under the sink.  
"What am I doing?!" Freddy raced out of the bathroom and into the study in the next room, grabbing a marker and one of the bills that he hoped his mom had already paid and spent the next 20 minutes deciphering the hieroglyphic phone number imprinted onto his face.  
  
MOLLY MARKOWITZ 903-5768.  
  
Freddy looked down at the scribbling at the bottom of the electric bill with a triumphant grin and then raced back to his room as best he could without toppling over. After digging around for a few minutes, discovered a cordless phone buried underneath the blankets that used to reside on his bed. He dialed her number quickly.  
"Took you long enough." Chimed a voice on the other end. Freddy smirked sleepily, running his free hand through his hair and down his face.  
"I've kind of got a hangover." Freddy groaned, falling back onto his bed and pulling the sheet up over his head, pressing his head against the naked mattress. How rock and roll.  
"I would expect anything else. You out drank me, Freddy." Molly said. In the background, noise got louder. She was listening to a CD in the background to Less Than Jake, humming along every few seconds.  
  
And I swear it's the last time. And I swear it's my last try. We'll walk in circles around this whole block Walk on the cracks of the same old sidewalks. And we'll talk about leaving town. Yeah, we'll talk about leaving, I swear. It's the last time. And I swear it's my last try. 


	10. I wanna touch you but I'm afraid of the ...

"So what exactly happened?" Freddy asked, blowing on the sheet that rested on his face.  
"We got shit faced and had wild sex on my front yard," Molly said sarcastically. "We sat around and talked, and eventually I kicked you out because I have to go to work today. You were too drunk to drive so I drove you home to the best of my ability and then took the bus home."  
"Damn. For a minute I thought you were serious about the lawn sex thing." Freddy said in his sort of mischievous, low and throaty voice that you could tell he was smirking on the other end of the phone.  
"You don't remember getting into an argument with your mom or anything?" Molly asked. Her voice sounded groggy and a little sick. Freddy thought for a few minutes, the only sound on either sides was their steady breathing and the occasional cough or groan.  
"No, not really. I remember being in dire need of some damn toothpaste, though."  
"Yeah," Molly muffled a groan. "We snuck in. And then your mom woke up. We both knew you'd be screwed if you got caught, so while you were brushing your teeth to get the whiskey off your breath, I left. I think."  
"Sounds like you're a little hung-over, too, Molls." Freddy said with a big smirk, tossing onto his sides.  
"At least I woke up at a decent time." Molly retorted.  
"Oh yeah, when'd you wake up?" Freddy asked.  
"One." They both laughed.  
"I wish we could hang out today." He said.  
"Oh hell, I'll just call in sick today. Technically, I am. I've got a hangover. Slightly." Molly's voice sounded perky at the thought of not having to go to work.  
"Nah, dude, I don't want to get you fired or anything."  
"Freddy, I won't care. Besides, they're short on staff. They need me over there."  
"Are you sure?"  
"Positive. I'll call in after we hang up."  
"You can come over. My mom left for work a few hours ago," Freddy pulled the sheet back to look at his digital clock. It read 2:34. "Yeah. It's cool. You remember where I live, right?"  
"To the best of my ability, I was half drunk." Molly said at the other end. The noise in the background began to die down. There was some odd noises in the background.  
"Alright. I'll leave the front door open." Freddy said, kicking the sheets off of him. He'd have to spend some major time in the shower to scrub off the marker on his face. He was just about to say goodbye when he heard Molly giggle and then hang up the phone. Freddy blinked a few times, not sure what to make of being hung up on. But instead, he just crawled around and started the shower, and cranked up the tunes from his room. He left the door to his room open and turned up the volume so loud that he could hear them in the bathroom across the hall. After being on a Ska buzz for a little over 3 weeks, Freddy pulled out "Permission To Land" from his backpack and started off with "I Believe in a Thing Called Love" as he showered, thrashing around in the hot water so much he almost slipped a few times. The songs progressed into different ones as his shower continued. It was unknown to Freddy that Molly had slipped in. She didn't exactly creep in, the music was loud enough to over power almost any door slam. Molly found her way upstairs and into Freddy's room, marveling at the drum set, numerous posters and insane amount of comfortable places to sit. As well as a monster stereo system that was blasting one of her most highly listened to bands that weren't Ska. Absentmindedly, Molly pressed the forward button a few times to "Growing on Me" and began singing along to the song, dancing in the mirror.  
  
"I can't get rid of you. I don't know what to do! I don't even know who is growing on who! 'Cause everywhere I go you're there, I can't get you out of my hair. I can't pretend that I don't care, it's not fair!" Freddy rinsed the soap from his eyes. His CD must have been skipping songs again. Quite annoyed, Freddy wrapped a towel around his waist and hopped out of the still running shower in hopes of clicking back a few songs to hear "I Believe in a Thing Called Love" for a second time. Pushing his sopping wet hair from his eyes, the moppy haired boy walked back into his room, only to see a girl. In his room. Dancing. It was Molly, obviously. He didn't want to interrupt her. She looked like she was having so much fun. Like the pure kind of fun. She sung out loud some more.  
"I'm being punished for all of my offences!" She danced a little bit, shaking her hips back and forth. "I wanna touch you but I'm afraid of the consequences." Molly did a twirl as she danced to the rest of the verse, and then noticed that when she spun around, there was someone in the doorway.  
"You're really growing on me...." Freddy and Molly stared at each other for a minute and took in each other's appearances. Freddy in a terry cloth towel and Molly in a pair of black sweatpants and a red Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles t-shirt, and red and black earrings that had dice on them.  
"Oh holy shit!" Molly covered her eyes and ran to the back of his room and sat on the futon. "I'm really, really sorry. You said the door was open and I came in and I didn't hear the shower running. I thought you were downstairs or something." She spat quickly, turning bright pink from embarrassment. Freddy vanished behind the door, equally as red.  
"It's okay, Molly. But I think we should maybe meet up later. I need some time to wake up." Freddy said, banging his forehead against the wood door.  
"Yeah, yeah, good idea. But not tonight because I've got to go to my Grandma's birthday or something like that."  
"School of Rock is playing a show tomorrow. I really want you to come. It's at McCracken Center. Doors are at 8. Show up about 9:45, alright?" Freddy instructed.  
"McCracken Center. 9:45. Right, gotcha," Molly said, smacking her forehead against her knuckles. "I'm so, so sorry, Freddy."  
  
Why don't you leave me, baby leave me, leave me alone.  
  
"Don't worry about it. Just, can you get out so I can finish my shower?" Freddy asked with two risen eyebrows, though Molly couldn't see them.  
"Oh! Right, right!" Molly muttered, jogging out of the room still in a deep shade of pink. Freddy peered from behind the door and down the hall, down the stairs to the front door. He watched her carefully, with a large grin and somewhat hysterical laughter, put her shoes back on. Freddy smiled and made his way towards the shower. Molly turned around just in time to catch the toga Freddy on his way back.  
"Or am I growing on you? Any fool can see." She said before she left, closing the door tight behind her. Freddy threw the towel onto the marble and hopped back into the shower.  
"You're really growing on me." Freddy sang first as he got back into the shower. The same song repeated the rest of his shower, as absent minded Molly had also played the repeat button. Freddy shut off the shower abruptly and ran around the house stark naked. He grabbed his phone and began dialing numbers in a hurry. As he talked to different people he opened his laptop and changed his idle message online.  
  
URGANT SCHOOL OF ROCK REHEARSAL. MEET AT NED'S ASAP.  
  
"Hi, Summer? I need an emergency rehearsal. Right now. Can you work your manager magic for me one more time? Thanks Summer, I owe you. Later." 


	11. A Rock and Roll Declaration

Inside McCracken Center was as any run down club was. Equally as seedy as it was crumbling to pieces. Molly Markowitz showed up a few minutes after 9:30 to catch the last of the opening act before School of Rock played. There were hundreds of mohawked and sullen looking people who had all come for the same reason. To smack the hell out of each other as best as humanly possibly all to the beat of a good band. Or jump up and down as fast as possible if the song wasn't right. Molly was leaning against a pole in the back of the club and suddenly sat up straight as she watched School of Rock enter and take their 'rock and roll positions.'  
"Are you sure she's here?" Marta asked, tugging at her fake hair scrunchie that was died black, just to give her more of an edge for when she was playing.  
"She's gonna be here." Zack reassured all of them. This was it, the big moment. Freddy grabbed a microphone and adjusted it so he could sing into it while playing drums. In McCracken Center there was no such thing as a headset microphone. He took a breath, and replayed today's events.  
  
"I know I piss you guys off a lot. And I'm a smart ass all the time. But I'm asking you guys for a favor 'cause you guys are my best fucking friends. I need to do something big. It's gonna take a lot of work, but it needs to get done. Before I go crazy. It needs to ooze of Rock and Roll."  
  
Okay, so his plea had worked. But now he was wondering if all that begging was really worth it. He had butterflies in his stomach and felt like throwing up. He wasn't scared, not by any means. Fredrick Joseph Jones did not frighten! Ever! Taking a breath, he looked around at his band mates, who had all plugged in and were tuning up. Lawrence played a couple of keys and then looked over at Freddy. There was a pause and then Lawrence threw Freddy a thumbs up.  
"It's going to ooze Rock and Roll." Lawrence said. It sounded pretty funny, Freddy had to admit. But he even had the brainy keyboard player's support. The crowed hushed, and Molly stood forward on her high heels in anticipation. She had seen School of Rock play live before, but there was always the trill if seeing if her friends would succeed or not. Smoothing out her black and white polka-dot skirt, Molly held her breath. Freddy hit his symbols.  
"I swear it's my last time, and I swear it's my last try. And we'll walk in circles around this whole block. Walk on the cracks of the same old sidewalks. And we'll talk about leaving town. Yeah, we'll talk about leaving, I swear it's the last time and I swear it's my last try..." The melody rang through the crowed and into Molly's ears, bouncing off her ear drums like a ping pong ball. That was her song. Her Less Than Jake song that she had been listening to earlier this morning. Molly's sharp eyes pierced through the stage. Freddy pulled himself sheepishly away from the microphone. Her eyes widened. It was Freddy. She had never heard Freddy sing, well, sing correctly. They had sung like no one cared in the car, but this time it was his real singing voice. His real "I care" voice.  
"Okay, she's on the hook. Let's real her in." Katie said with a vicious grin, nodding to Freddy who hit the crash symbol 3 times, and then Zack kicked in, then Katie and a triumphant "Go!" from the back up singers. School of Rock was doing a cover of "Growing on You" by The Darkness.  
  
I can't get rid of you I don't know what to do I don't even know who is growing on who--yeah, yeah 'Cause everywhere I go you're there I can't get you out of my hair I can't pretend that I don't care It's not fair  
  
I'm being punished for all my offences I wanna touch you but I'm afraid of the consequences I wanna banish you from whence you came But you're part of me now And I've only got myself to blame  
  
You're really growing on me (Or am I growing on you?) You're really growing on me (Or am I growing on you?) Any fool can see  
  
Sleeping in an empty bed I can't get you off my head And I won't have a life until you're dead Yeah, you heard what I said!  
  
I wanna shake you off but you just won't go And you're all over me and I don't want anyone to know That you're attached to me, that's how you've grown Won't you leave me, baby leave me, leave me alone  
  
You're really growing on me (Or am I growing on you?) You're really growing on me (Or am I growing on you?) Any fool can see  
  
You're really growing on me (Or am I growing on you?) You're really growing on me (Or am I growing on you?)  
  
And the entire time School of Rock played, Freddy kept his attention locked on the back of the room. It wasn't until the end of the song, where the entire band stopped their vocals, except for Freddy who sang  
  
"You're really growing on me. Or am I growing on you?" And then tossed his drumsticks to the back of the room, one passing right by Molly's head and nearly cutting off her ear so she'd resemble Van Gogh. It wasn't exactly how Freddy had planned it. The drumsticks ended up hitting the back mirror of the club and shattering it. They'd probably have to pay for it later on but that wasn't his concern right now. Instead, Freddy got up from his position at the drums and staged dived into the crowed, who managed to get him pretty far back into the club. So far that he could walk the rest without being mangled and killed. Freddy eased his way towards Molly, his hands stuffed in his back pockets shyly. Molly stared back at him, and grinned with amazement.  
"That was so punk rock." Molly exclaimed, pulled Freddy by the collar of his black torn up t-shirt. While in return, Freddy had grabbed Molly by the hips and they pulled each other inward until they kissed. 


	12. End Part 1

Freddy woke up the next morning with white cotton sheets wrapped lightly and carefree across his warm body. This time he had every recollection of what had happened the night before. With a smirk, he came to full consciousness.  
"In my dream, I'm off and running to a place that's out of view. Of every kind of memory...with strings that tie to you. I know it's either them or me, so I'll bury every clue. And every kind of memory, with strings that tie to you." A hand with black glittery fingernails raked through the side of his messy blonde hair, traipse down the side of his face and to his neck. Freddy gave a sleepy groan, and stretched his feet out. They meet with a tiny pair of feet, which he wrapped around his ankles with a grin.  
"Don't sing that." Freddy instructed groggily.  
"How come?"  
"It's too sad."  
"What about this?" There was a pause, where the only sound besides their steady breathing was the ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway, and every time a second passed the sound cut through the air like a lightning bolt. Every moment needed to stay for twice as long as Freddy was concerned. "You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy when skies are gray. Oh don't you know dear how much I love you?"  
"Oh please don't take my sunshine away." The last of the song was buried as the drummer had leaned into her neck, and did nothing but breath softly on it for a while.  
"Shit, shit, my phone is vibrating." The sheets began to rustle and there was a cold breeze as their cottony goodness was suddenly gone. Freddy pulled the sheets up to his chest, grabbed the body and it fell back on the bed with a laugh.  
"Freddy! It could be important!" Freddy shook his head, giving a genuine grin. One of those John-Mayer-music-video grins.  
"Nothing is more important than this." He said through a smiling mouth. Freddy looked down, running his fingers delicately over the loop earrings, both which held tiny red dice. He spun them around and then smiled, tracing his fingers over the freckled face which rested below him.  
"Mmmm...I agree." Freddy kissed her softly.  
"So, Molly," He paused to kiss her neck. "What happens now?" 


End file.
